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In Memoriam

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A one-shot series. There are thousands of Heroic Spirits out there, countless Heroes and Villains from across the history of the world. What are they like, what are their stories? These tales will reveal the truth. The real truth behind these legendary figures. Let us begin...

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AN:  A new story for the Fate/Stay Night section. Similar in vain to my series 'Kaldeioscopical', this is a one-shot series dealing with various different Servants but this time with a twist! Instead of fictional characters from other media, all Servants will be based off of actual history. While some fictional Servants may show up, they are from classic literature, poems and myths and not crossovers. For an example, think of Frankenstein's Monster from Fate/Apocrypha.

As a note, I will attempt to stick with the Throne of Heroes cutting off point, and there will be no Servants that was born past the 1950's at all, so don't expect any modern day figures. I'm going to do some canon Servants as well, with different classes, so be on the lookout.

Also as a special treat, these Servants and their lore, will be free for anyone to use in their own stories, fanworks or fanart. The only thing I ask is that you credit me as their original creator and that you let me know before using them.

I'll also stick as close to real lore as possible, but liberties will be taken since the Nasuverse does it anyway.

Disclaimer : All copyrighted materials belong to their respective creators and are not owned by me. All historical characters portrayed within this story are purely fictionalized versions of themselves and DO NOT reflect my opinion of them as real-life individuals.


In Memoriam

by Anju Addams


Chapter 1: Delusional Literary Girl

Across all of history, the legends of those that are heroes and those that are villains are always distorted. Lost to time. Reinvented over and over again as the eras pass by. Sometimes, throughout the passing of the ages, heroes can become villains and villains can become heroes. Across all of history, the truths behind the legends are lost.

But there may come a time when the truth behind these figures becomes reality once more. A time when those heroes and villains are resurrected and their real self is laid bare for all to see. This tale, this story, takes part in one of those times. A time of peace for most that live in the world today, unlike the seven certain individuals locked in a war for the cup that can grant wishes. No matter what wish it is, good or evil, that holy cup will fulfill it.

Or at least that's what those seven thought. For those seven people and the seven who followed them as their Servants, they had no idea what was coming.

This is the story of the Holy Grail War.


The tale of Kiritsugu Emiya, was a long and tragic one. It was a long and tragic life because he had seen the worst of things, the utter horrors spread across real life. From the sad, terrible fates that befell not only his father but his best friend and his mentor too, Kiritsugu had seen them all and despaired. No matter where he went, he often wondered on sleepless nights, disaster followed him as if he were a blight on the world. A curse spread across all of existence.

In that case, could the man ever be called guilty for secretly hoping? Hoping, truly and deeply, that his troubles were almost all over? That, he would finally be able to settle down with the woman he had come to love and the daughter that had been born of their blessed union? Could he finally rest in peace, knowing that the future was bright?

No.

The red marks that appeared on his hand had sealed his soul in an unbreakable pact. No matter what he did, or no matter how hard he tried, he knew that there was nothing he could do to save the life of his wife. She would die, that was that. The only things he could do was to give her the life she had so desperately wanted, that she could never have before, and to win the war. To have his wish, her wish, their wish of world peace where no one could ever be hurt ever again, be granted by the cup that was said to have touched the lips of a messiah.

And to win that war, he would need a strong Servant. A Servant that was above all others. A Servant whose tale was known around the world as the greatest and most celebrated of all. If he had that Servant, then no one would stand in his way and the Grail would be his. And with it, his wish.

The Einzbern family seemingly agreed with him because they had found it. The perfect Servant to lead them to victory. After a long, laborious search, they were sure that the artifact they had discovered, buried within the grounds of an old abbey, in a quaint English city, was the genuine thing. With that artifact, an old, yet still shining scabbard, that they were sure was nothing more than the infamous Avalon, the Servant they desired could be summoned from the Throne of Heroes.

The King of Knights. The Just King. The King who controlled all of Briton.

Arthur Pendragon.

A king whose legend, perhaps the most famous and well known in the entire world, was a celebration of his accomplishments. A kind and noble king who allowed the country under his rule to prosper. A great king who beat back the invading forces that threatened his land. A king, who never once lost his composure, even in the face of the two greatest traitors in history. It was said that even as he lay dying, murdered by his own son, the man who was King Arthur never lost himself to rage or anger. A great king until the end. The epitome of one called a 'hero'.

In other words, the ideal Servant.

At least for someone who wasn't Kiritsugu Emiya. He was a man of subtlety, of subterfuge, not a proud warrior. He preferred to skulk in the shadows, unseen by all. In his eyes, surely someone like Caster or Assassin was much better suited to him than a Saber. In the end, though, it did not matter, for a Servant was just an end to the means. A tool. After all, was that not why they were called a Servant?

So, he'd followed the ritual to a tee. Made sure everything had gone absolutely right. That way, there was no way of any mistakes. Everything would go according to the Einzbern's plan. With Arthur at their side, everything would be perfect.

But the second Kiritsugu Emiya caught a glimpse of his Servant to be, he knew that it had all gone horribly, horribly wrong. It was unprecedented. Unwanted. Unappreciated. Yet, here it was in the flesh. Proof that his life, his very existence, was never going to get better. At that moment, it was the greatest mistake he had ever made.

For how could the Servant in front of him, the tiny little slip of a girl, no older than his own precious Illya, be a hero? How could that girl, with the long blonde hair that shone like the sun, nestled beneath a blue headband, be any sort of legend? She was a child. That fact could not be changed. Even though she was wearing a set of armour that flowed out at the ends like a young woman's skirt, that was whiter than white could ever be, and even though strapped to her side was the beginnings of a sword, a rapier from what he saw, she was still a child.

She could not be, and could never be, someone like Arthur Pendragon.

"I am the Servant designated Saber," she called out to him. Even her voice, a sweet voice that tinkled like little bells, was that of a child's. Further proof that he had failed, completely and utterly. "Called henceforth by your summons, I ask you one question. Are you, good sir, my Master?"

Kiritsugu Emiya could not reply. For he had no words to speak. None would come to mind. There was nothing for him to say or do, except watch as his disaster of a Servant turned towards his equally shell-shocked wife and blinked at her with brilliantly blue eyes, in a way that reminded him of one animal, more specifically, owls, that he had seen gaze at him on his travels around the world.

"Is something wrong with my Master?" came her question, asked in a tone of voice that equated to him she was not feeling concerned or worried in the slightest. Instead, he felt that she felt, rather amused. Entertained. Delighted. It was something that disturbed him to the core. But, she was not privy to his thoughts, and could not guess what he was thinking. That was why she was still talking. "He looks as if he's gotten all mimsy. If I had to guess, you probably weren't excepting me right? Ah, well. I'm sorry about that." Again, Kiritsugu Emiya knew that was a lie, a falsity from the way she spoke. No, the Saber class Servant was not feeling sorry in the slightest degree. Not one mote of guilt was tinged in her voice.

Irisviel von Einzbern, his darling wife, the greatest homunculus of the Einzbern family since Justeaze, did not seem to notice the tone in Saber's voice. Perhaps it was because she was still in shock, or perhaps, he noted, it was because she was not that versed in people's emotional state. Unlike him, who had studied and researched, pouring himself into countless books and watching the people whom he had put down, she was not the greatest judge of character. That was probably the reason, she spoke up, in her warmest tone. "You don't have to worry, Saber, was it? However, we were expecting King Arthur. You are wearing armour, so are you perhaps a Knight of the Round Table? Or a descendant?"

Kiritsugu had to give his wife credit for that. There was, of course, a distinct possibility that she was related to the tale of King Arthur anyway. There were several members of the Round Table, some more well known than others, and in the other case, several legends did in fact state that Arthur had more sons than just Mordred. How true those myths were, he could not say. But, that hope quickly came crashing down when the blonde youth replied in a simple negative shake of her head.

"No, I'm not related to any Arthurian myth, at least, I don't think so, but as you can see," she gestured to the armour, that bright and glimmering white armour she was clad in. "I am a knight, the protector of all little girls, everywhere. So it is no problem for me, Servant Saber to fight for your wish. I do hope that my words have warmed your hearts and made you much happier!"

Kiritsugu did not agree. Again, he had been disappointed. Just like with nearly everything else in his life. He had been so close to his dream, his one goal, but that was long, long gone. His Servant was a child playing at being a knight. A child that apparently, did not have any emotional capacity to feel sorry at all. No, he knew what she was. It was obvious, in his eyes.

She was just a delusional little girl. Nothing more, nothing less.

With that in regard, he turned around, as if to head out the nearby door. Still, he had nothing to say or anything to do, other than walk away in disgust. And perhaps, come up with a new strategy. One part of himself, in a deep, dark place he kept locked away, still believed that he could win this. Was she not a Saber class, his mind told him. That part had not changed. It was why Arthur was to be summoned after all. His manifestation as Saber meant that he would have been the strongest in the war. Yes, perhaps the Servant he had, could have some use after all. If he was careful, the other Servants may just eliminate each other. Then the Grail was his.

He would have still left the room, just to prove his point, if it was not for the call of the light of his life. "Kiritsugu!" He was quite surprised by that. His wife was generally a calm person, not one to ever get angry. It seemed, however, that his actions had finally roused some form of temper from inside her. So, not wanting to anger her further, he appeased the woman by turning to face her. "Even if you're upset that we didn't summon the Heroic Spirit that we wanted, it isn't Saber's fault. You should at least try to work something out with her. We have to win this war, not for my sake, but for the sake of our daughter!"

The moment she said those words, the moment she made that proclamation of their relationship, the moment she spoke proving the existence of a being born from their coupling, Kiritsugu Emiya's world turned chillingly cold. A harsh wind blew around his very soul as a shiver went up his spine. It was a horrid feeling, one he'd felt long, long ago when he was a child, on that certain day. It was a feeling he had never wanted to feel ever again. Slowly, very slowly, he rotated his entire body and gazed at his Servant.

She was smiling. Just smiling. It was just an ordinary, cheerful, joyful, smile that lit up the room.

At least that's what it looked like.

Kiritsugu Emiya knew better.

The smile that was spread across Saber's face was too wide, too far reaching across her cheeks. It was too mirthful, too full of hidden viciousness from the pearly white teeth that peeked through. It was a smile he had seen before, on countless faces. Faces, that he himself, had dealt with. No, Kiritsugu knew this was no truthful smile, no smile filled with good intentions, no smile of warmth. Most importantly, it was not a nice smile.

No, it was an evil smile.

"Callooh! Callay!" cheered the girl with the horrid smile. "O' frabjous day! I love children, especially girls! Do you think we can be friends?"

To Irisviel, it must have been an innocent question, asked with innocent intentions. From a child who simply wanted a friend. A child who had probably been so lonely in her life. A child who wanted a friend. To Irisviel, that must have been the image the Saber projected. It was the visage the knight had crafted for all to see. To be tricked with.

Upon hearing that question, full of cruel meaning, Kiritsugu Emiya vowed that he would never let that girl, no, that monster in human flesh, near his daughter. It was a decision that was so enforced, so hard into his very being, when he gazed across at his Servant and truly saw her.

There was one thing, no matter how hard she tried, she could never hide from him. Why? Because he was a Master. And as a Master, he could see what made his Servant so special, what their strengths were, or their weaknesses. It was the greatest tool he could have right now. For once he activated that ability, once he saw the truth of his Servant's powers, he saw those three simple words. Just three words that said so much in so little. Words that were there, unchangeable and indestructible. They were a part of her that could never be changed. Words that reinforced his belief in the evil nature of the tiny figure in front of him.

Words that simply stated thus;

Mental Pollution: A.


Irisviel was currently nursing a warm cup of tea, as she gave a gentle smile towards the Saber, who was currently observing Kiritsugu and their daughter, Illyasviel, playing in the snow outside. Illya had woken up her father early that morning, eager to play, and they were now in the middle of a game, the one where the counted some form of plant shoot, she believed. The smile on her face grew as she thought about the close relationship that had grown between the father and child, especially considering that Kiritsugu had felt rather uncertain when the girl had first been born. It truly warmed her heart to see how well the pair were getting on.

However, in the terms of the Servant they had summoned, she could not say the same. In the past few days, the Magus Killer had tried to avoid seeing the girl. He did not even attempt to talk to her. Only glare at her harshly, every time she tried to approach their young daughter. Irisviel did not know what was going on there, but she assumed that he was just being overprotective with a stranger in the house. The homunculus did hope that he would eventually relax, allowing the two girls of a similar age to form a good friendship. Illyasviel had never met, never mind talking with someone her own age, since she'd been cooped up in the windy, dreary old castle since the day she was born. Even Saber looked like she was lonely as well. As a knight, she probably had no time for friends at all.

Irisviel decided to speak up. "I was wondering if you were surprised," she called out, the Saber answering her with a curious glance. "I know my husband hasn't been talking with you much since you were summoned, but I think he's just a little shocked. He really can be a kind man and a gentle father. Like I told you, he just wasn't expecting someone like you. In that regard, I think he's a little upset as well. A child should never fight. Nor ever be a knight."

The Saber waved her off, with a cheerful giggle. "Oh, stop it Irisiviel, I'm blushing! No one has ever forced me to be a knight, you know. Contrary-wise, in my entire life, I was nothing but a pacifist I never raised a single hand to anybody. This form, and this armour and sword, they are just how I desired to be in life. Thankfully, this power has granted me some knowledge of combat and fighting Servants shouldn't be too hard. As long as I can protect the little girls of this world, I am content."

Taking a sip from her tea, Irisviel gave her a nod. It was a wonderful dream, one that she thought would perfectly align with her and her husband's. It was a precious dream born from an innocent and gentle soul. She relayed those words to her Servant. "What a kind heart you have Saber. My husband and I have a similar wish. We want peace in this world, for everyone. We will use the Holy Grail to grant that wish and achieve world peace. That dream we have, we shall fulfill it. What do you think?"

"It is a brilliant dream Irisviel." the Saber told her. "It reminds me of my own wish, to protect those girls. It's no wonder that you summoned me when our wishes are so similar. I'm truly happy. I've not been this happy since I met the one I loved..." A sad smile appeared on her face, as she shook the memory away. "No, I can't think about that now. I must focus on the present."

"Well, would you like some tea and sandwiches?" Irisviel asked, gesturing towards the tea tray at her side. She knew that Servants did not need food. Or sleep for that matter, but it was nice to be polite, and Saber might even enjoy it. She was delighted then when Saber nodded and reached out for a cup. She watched intently as Saber poured her self a drink, and stirred in several heaping spoonfuls of sugar. The silver haired woman noted that the girl was doing it rather expertly.

"Ah...that's better." the Saber breathed a sigh of relief after a drink. "A proper Englishma...I mean, Englishwoman, like myself would never turn down a cup of tea. It just isn't right." Then, she reached out to plate a ham sandwich, before clasping her hands together in prayer."Bless, O Father, Thy gifts to our use and us to Thy service; for Christ's sake. Amen."

Irisviel studied the girl as she wrapped up her prayer, and daintily bit into her sandwich. In the past few days, the Servant had not revealed much, not even her True Name. And while Irisviel knew that her husband could have simply used a Command Seal, she also knew that he would not waste it like that. So, any piece of information that she could squeeze out from the Servant was worth something. Perhaps with a few questions, she could get some more by having the Servant open up? "So, are you religious then?" she pried. "I don't want to seem offensive, I was just curious."

"I'm not, so don't worry," the Saber explained around a mouthful of bread. "Indeed I am religious. I am a follower of the Anglican faith and was once made a deacon. Actually, they tried to make me a priest as well, but I turned them down. There was a time when I was going through some self-doubt, and I did not think I was up to the task. At least here, I know I'm much happier. This form I have has made me more confident, more strong and more beautiful. Even my stutter, that people once used to make fun of, is all gone. I wonder if this is a gift from God for being so loyal."

Irisviel tittered. "I'm so glad you're happy Saber," Her face then grew dark. "But, I'm worried about Illya. She's going to be so lonely here, with no-one to talk to. There are no children her own age, and she can't leave. We'll be in Japan for so long..."

The Saber looked out the window fondly. "Don't worry about that Irisivel. While I'm here, I'll watch over her. She's such a precious girl and I'm sure we can become friends. If we spend some time together, that is."


Kiritsugu stormed through the halls of the castle, his mind whirling and his thoughts turning to frustration and anger. He'd only been gone a few hours, to order some more ammunition for his weapons, and things had already gone wrong. He'd been stupid enough to leave his Servant at home, thinking that Irisviel would be able to keep an eye on her, but it was clearly not the case. The Magus Killer had repeatedly told his wife that he wanted the Saber away from his daughter but she refused to listen, attempting to push the girls closer. It had led to one of the few rare arguments the pair had ever had during their marriage, as he tried to convince the woman that the Servant was acting extremely suspicious. But, she refused to believe him and he'd eventually stormed out of the room. That night was actually the first and only time that he'd ever slept on te couch. It was not very comfortable, and he was still feeling quite sore right now.

Even his attempts to order the Servant away from his daughter were ignored and he was close to actually using one of his precious Command Seals. What had happened while he was away, may actually be his last straw. He'd grown extremely angry when he'd looked through his Servant's eyes to suddenly see her at Illyaviel's side, so he'd rushed home as quickly as possible to find them. As he got closer and closer, his anger grew even futher, and he was sure that if he looked into a mirror, his face would resemble a tomato with how red it was. He could even feel the heat on his cheeks!

Still walking down the corridor, he took a sharp left and slammed a large pair of doors wide open, startling both Illyasviel and Saber, who were sat inside reading from a thick book. They both turned to look at him in shock but not before he noticed Saber quickly retract her hand from where it had been lying atop Illya's own. "Illya, get out," he ordered the girl harshly, his eyes burning with hatred towards the Servant.

"Daddy..." she spoke in a small voice, eyes filling with tears. "I wasn't doing anything...She was helping me with my maths...Why are you angry?" She was confused, he realized because in her eyes nothing had been wrong at all. It was just a friendly teaching session if what she said was true. But Kiritsugu knew better and he wasn't about to feel guilty for almost shouting at his daughter. He just needed her out as quickly as possible. But, he did let out a large breath and calmed down his shattered nerves.

"Sorry, Illya," he answered back. "I'm just a little stressed at the minute and I need to talk to Saber alone. You don't mind do you? It's a secret talk that's only for me and her. You see?"

That seemed like the right answer, as the girl sprang up from her seat, hugged him with a "Love you, Daddy." and walked out of the room, the doors shutting behind her. Kiritsugu waited for the sound of her little footsteps fade away before he rounded back on Saber, his face twisted in anger again. He would be having words. Strong words with the girl in front of him.

"What the hell do you think you are doing? I told you to stay away from my daughter. I don't want her to have anything to do with you." he growled out, subtly fingering the gun in his inside pocket. He'd loaded it with his special bone bullets just in case. "I am your Master and you are a Servant. You will listen to me." He watched as Saber's face molded itself into a confused look. It was a look that seemed almost genuine, almost real, but Kiritsugu was not fooled at all.

"I'm sorry if you thought I was a threat, or I've done something wrong, Master," she began, hesitantly. "I was just trying to help Illyasviel with her studies. She was struggling with her maths a little bit, so I asked Irisviel if I could help. I was a maths professor, you know. Is that really that wrong?" Kiritsugu did not respond in speech. Instead, he raised his hand, making sure the three Command Seal were in plain view.

"So, if you were teaching my daughter maths, it requires stroking her hand does it? Let me explain once more. I am a Master, your Master. Next time you try to come anywhere near my daughter. I will use a Command on you. I can promise that much. But, if you obey and work as my tool in this war, I will tolerate your less extreme antics. Am I clear?"

The pair locked eyes for what seemed like hours before Saber looked away with a sigh. "Fine, I understand," she told him, sorrow tinged in her voice. "I won't do anything else with her. You don't have to worry. I'm not stupid, I'd like to stay in this world. You have my word as a Servant that I'll stay away from your daughter." Then with a shimmer, she vanished from sight as she turned into her phantasmal form. Kiritsugu didn't worry about where she'd gone since a quick glance into her mind revealed that she'd escaped into the surrounding forest. Far away from Illyasviel. Far away from his precious child.

Relieved, at last, he turned to leave the room himself, when the doors banged open a second time, revealing the upset face of his wife. She strode forwards, hands on her hips. "Kiritsugu," she began with a stern tone. "Illya came and told me you've shouted at her. Please let me know what this is about. I'm really getting worried for you..."

The Magus Killer then rounded on her. "I've told you, time and again. That Servant should not be near our daughter. She's insane. She's delusional. Something is wrong with that girl and I intend to find out what. I am a killer Iri, you know that. And thanks to that, I know people. The worst people, lower than dirt. Scum of the earth. And that girl? She's one of those people. You, who has been locked up in this castle for most of your life, cannot possibly understand her nature. But I can."


The Caster class Servant, who was going by the name of Bluebeard in this era, Gilles de Rais allowed himself a small, yet maniacal grin as he observed his beautiful works of art. The children that he had captured with his amazing Master, had been transformed, by none other than himself, into grotesque mockeries of God's creation. Though they looked normal at the moment, Gilles knew that under their skin, crawled an eldritch horror brought forth from the spellbook clutched in his hands, the spellbook he had borrowed from his old friend Prelati. He truly had to praise her for her amazing Magecraft! He was sure that when he finally got his hands on the Grail, and Jeanne, his fantastical savior Jeanne, was resurrected at long last, he would be able to track down the still living Francesca and reward her greatly for her contributions towards his success.

In the meantime, he would have to wait, because there was a particular Servant that he wanted to deal with. It was the Saber girl, who dared mock his La Pucelle with her long blonde hair and youthful face. When he'd first gazed upon her, while she was observing the fight at the docks between the Irish Lancer and the Macedonian Rider, he had honestly thought that it truly was the Maid of Orleans. Alas, when he'd looked closer, he had been able to tell that she was not the woman he so desperately wanted to see again. Her facial structure was too different, her height was too small, she spoke differently. No, she was no Jeanne, just a cruel and twisted mockery, sent by God, no doubt, in order to torment him. In the case, she had to die.

Though it had taken a while to track her down, he'd finally been able to track them down to an old castle through a forest on the outskirts of town. Purposely tripping the Bounded Field that surrounded the forest, he stood and waited along with his little monsters. He didn't have to wait long, because, after a rustle in the nearby bushes, the Saber and her female companion emerged from the tree line. "Slow down, Saber!" she called out to the girl who continued to drag her along. Letting go of her hand, the Saber strode forwards, saying no words. An angry frown graced her face as one of Gilles's puppets attempted to stumble over. "Be careful!" the older woman cried out.

Again, her words fell on deaf ears, and with one smooth motion, drew the sword from her hilt. It was quite a majestic sword for someone so small, and he noticed that it was actually a rapier. The blade itself shone with a blue light and looked rather hypnotic. Then without flinching once, as the child reached out for her, she swung the rapier forwards, straight into the boy's neck. Gilles watched in fascination, while her Master looked on in a realization of horror, as the rapier cut through muscle and bone with a surprising ease.

Snicker! Snack!

That was the sound the rapier made as it cut through the boy's collarbone. It was a sound known throughout the world, in the hearts of children. A sound that came from the rapier that had once only belonged in the world of fiction, a nonsense poem no less. In that poem, that rapier had slain a beast of an unknown nature, that in the modern era had come to be known as a dragon. That very rapier had cut through the head of that which had become a dragon, with one stroke.

To slice through the flesh of a human was an easy task for a rapier that had killed a dragon by slicing through its neck.

The boy's body continued to stumble forwards as his head, cleanly separated, fell backward onto the grass, his glassy eyes staring up at Gilles. The body then pitched forwards, releasing a jet of blood that soaked Saber completely. Finally comprehending what had happened, Saber's Master screeched in terror, then vomited up onto the floor. Then, her shaking legs gave way, and she crashed bottom first into the dirt.

"...Wha...Wha..." she muttered in a daze. "Why...why did you do that Saber? Why?"

Saber, covered head to toe, in the red liquid of her victim, fixed her with a blank look that conveyed no regret. Gilles, still watching, silently wondered if they were more alike than he had thought. Perhaps he had misjudged her. With a wave of his hand, his puppets froze on the spot, ceasing their attack. He was curious now, wanting to see what the Saber would do, as she readied her rapier once more.

She quickly flashed over to a second boy, cutting through him horizontally. As both pieces fell to the ground in a spurt of blood and guts, she spoke up. "Who cares, Master," A third boy was also quickly cut down, sliced into chunks of meat by a zigzagging motion the girl made. "They're just little boys. Stinky, awful little boys who stole my girls away from me. Disgusting things. They deserve to die, don't you think?" Limbs and heads flew across into the air as she continued to brutally slice her way through the numerous children. Finally, after an eternity, she finished, flicking the blood off her rapier and sheathing it back in her hilt. "I'm done now anyway, so it doesn't matter. Besides," she pointed towards Gilles. "He was controlling them, so I would've had no choice anyway."

"Indeed!" Gilles crowed, his frog-like eyes bulging as he spoke. "It was I, Caster, who sent those wonderful children after you. Alas, I must admit, I have terribly misjudged you. I wanted to see you fall into despair as you were forced to kill those innocent figures. I wanted you to be struck down with terror." Saber studied him until a kind smile plastered itself on her face.

"I don't know about the despair thing, but I must have misjudged you too. You're actually pretty...what was that word again?" she wondered. "Oh, right! You were pretty cool!" Gilles was startled at those words. Cool. Wasn't that the word that his own Master has just to describe him? Yes, he was sure of it! He could hardly believe it! Another person who thought that he was cool? His distorted face lit up, and the Caster bounded forwards to shake Saber's hand with his own, quite roughly. Thanks to his height, he had to stretch her arm out, making it look rather limp when he shook it.

"Thank you! Thank you!" the serial killer cried. "To think that there is another who truly appreciates my art and understands me! I shall keep making more beautiful pieces of work for you to look at, my new friend. Please, come and gaze upon it." Calming down from his emotional high, he released her hand and eagerly awaited her response. Thinking about it made him somewhat giddy. The Saber appeared to agree with him as she smiled again.

"No problem!" she giggled, amused. "I'll come and see your work anytime, it might be interesting. Though I have one request," she ordered, drawing out her rapier and second time and inching it towards his nose. "Please don't kill any little girls. If you dare do that, then well...I will have to kill you." Gilles did not mind, he preferred younger boys anyway.

"Very well, I can agree to your demands," he called out, with several bows in her direction. "You are a wonderful person! I hope to see more of you in the future! Good Night for now..." The Caster dematerialised from the physical plane, only staying long enough for his ear to catch a short exchange of words between her Master and herself.

"W-What...what...what was that?"

"Isn't it obvious my Master? That was called coming to an understanding."


The girl that called herself Saber was mad, furious even.

Perhaps, she wondered, she was stark 'raven' mad.

Though, she was not usually a person who was known for her temper, preferring to keep quiet and out of the way. When she'd been alive, when she'd been stuck with that awful stutter that made no one take her seriously, she had simply reigned in her anger any time it flared up. Even now, in this era, she'd kept a tight leash on her rage, even through the orders of her Master, even when he'd made her leave his cute daughter alone. Even when Irisiveil had tattled on the events that took place with that ugly, frog-eyed Caster and Kiritsugu had forced her into a Command that restricted her interaction with children, she'd remained calm.

But now, that anger was leaking out. It had been ever since that stupid 'Grail Dialogue' she been told to take part in. After all, she had no desire to hunt that Caster. They had become quite good friends in the short time they had together before her Master had found out what she'd done. But, Master was Master, and she knew, that if she wanted to survive, she would have to listen. Even if she had no desire to talk to that arrogant golden boy of an Archer who reminded her of a certain temperamental queen or that strange, mentally disturbed Rider, who thought that working under his so-called rule, was a good idea. Both of them were insane, rambling on and on about their dreams and which one of them made a better king. Saber had tuned them out, and since she wasn't allowed any of the wine the Rider had brought, she'd settled for thinking about those girls she'd met at the park last week.

They had been so cute. Darling little things, that she'd struck up a friendship with. With a little coercion here and there, she was sure that she could get them to bare all, quite literally. With the way cameras had improved over the last century, she'd be able to snap up some good pictures. Who cared if in this era, it was considered illegal and immoral? She was a Servant, a Heroic Spirit. The law could not touch her. She was far above them. She kept those desires in her head, practically salivating over them, until she was rudely distracted by a kunai that buried itself into the tile near her lap.

The Rider by her side, rose up in anger, looking towards the skull faced entities that had appeared on the rooftop of Einzbern Castle. The Archer, arrogant as ever, did not even move from his seat. Rather, he raised a single golden eyebrow as if to say, why bother? It was clear, to all who were present, that he knew full well the Assassins were no threat to him. That it would be easy to beat them all, just as he had easily skewered the last one in mere seconds. No, those Servants would be crushed in an instant by the man who proclaimed himself King of Heroes.

Suddenly, the Rider cried out into the night sky. "How dare you, cowards! Do you think yourself better by fighting up there? Come down at once for, I, Iskander, King of Conquerors, command you! Come down and face us like a king!" It was a laughable statement, that no one there, except he, knew would be successful. An Assassin always strayed in the shadows, waiting and watching. It was no surprise then, and quite predictable, when the response to that statement, was a dagger that shattered the wine glass in Rider's hand, allowing the pale, purplish liquid inside to wet his hand.

"Well then," the Rider spoke in a tone that belayed his temper. "If that is how you want to play it, then I will just have to bring you down here," A grin etched itself onto his face as he looked back at the Archer still sat in position, and the Saber, who also hadn't moved. In a theatrical display, that seemed rather silly to the Saber, he spread out his arms as wide as he could. "Watch, Saber and my fellow king. I will show you both what the true power of a king is! What the meaning of king is! I, Iskander, will show you with all my power!" Then, as if noticing for the first time, he looked over at his Master, the cowardly boy hiding behind Irisviel who was also present. "You too my Master! I will show you my power too!"

He could not though. For whatever act he was going to perform, whatever Noble Phantasm the Rider would use, was stopped in its tracks by the sound from behind him. It was a slow and steady noise that anyone could tell was dripping with a great sense of sarcasm. That noise that spoke volumes, was the sound of Saber's hands clapping together.

"Wow, how wonderful," came the Saber's almost dead flat tone. "You know, I really don't care if you want to do that or not, but I'm really annoyed up with you lot. Bragging about who was the best king. Having a silly little contest. I can't really understand that, you know, not being a king and all. But..." The Saber paused dramatically. A wonderful, awful idea had just popped into her head. If that Rider wanted to show true power, then why couldn't she? She would show him what he wanted to see. A world born from a powerful mind full of dreams. As she schemed, an eerie grin spread itself across her cheeks. Then, she spoke again, her words filled with power.

"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense..."

The Rider flinched. The two Masters turned to stare, wide-eyed. The Assassins crouched low. Even the Archer moved, if only for a curious tilt of his head. They all knew what she was doing. And almost all could scarcely believe it. The words she spoke were not just mere words. No, they were words of power, of presence. Words that spoke of an utter denial of reality. Words that could change the fabric of the existence they knew, just by themselves. They were part of a power, that many did not have, a power that was higher than most, a power that they were lucky to have. A power born from denying the truth.

"It's a Reality Marble..." The female Master muttered. "She...she...she has a Reality Marble!"

A Reality Marble. One of the greatest Noble Phantasm's any Servant could have. Born from the rejection of reality by a person's mind, that was taboo to even the greatest Magi. They were a mystery to all, even those who saw them. But, the Servant called Saber had one. A Reality Marble, born from her delusional mind.

"Nothing would be what it is, because, everything would be what it isn't..."

She was almost done now. Those gathered could do nothing but stand still, waiting, hoping that they would not be the target. The Master of Rider continued to cower behind Irisivel. The Rider himself readied his wits and sword. For, he too had a Reality Marble, set aside just in case. If the Saber dared attack him, he too would unleash that power. His Ionioi Hetairoi. The Archer did not bother, for not even the greatest of feats could touch him. Instead, he was content to drink his wine and spectate. The Assassin's shuddered. Together, the people who had once been one, knew that this was their end. The fault of their Master who had given them a Command even they could not break. Together, they could only hope to survive and fight.

"And contrary-wise, what is, wouldn't be. And what wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

The world around them, the world that they all knew and thought they understood, vanished in an instance. It vanished to be replaced by another world. A world where they could only stop and stare. An endless forgotten forest, where mushrooms, polka-dotted and striped, sprouted from the ground to tower tremendously above them. In that forest, countless flowers, blue and green and red, of countless species they had never seen before, some that looked like horns and trumpets, danced in a nonexistent breeze. It was a forest, where vines curled in on themselves as if going to sleep, only to spring open again.

But, away from that looming forest, across from them, lay a hill. And upon that hill was a castle. A castle that rose above all else, high roofs and spiraling towers painted a deep bloody red, with great stone gargoyles who peered across the distance at where they were. It was, however, the symbol on the castle, carved into red stone, that showed them the truth of where they were.

That symbol, that image, was that of a heart. A heart that one would normally see in a cartoon, or in a child's drawing.

Or perhaps, on a set of playing cards.

Because all playing cards had a queen...

A queen that ruled, unquestionably and unopposed over a fantastical land. A phantasmal land. A nonsense land. A land of dreams. A land of illogical things. A senseless land. It was a world that they, or at least the Masters, knew. A world that they could now see. The young boy and the artificial woman knew this land well, for they had seen it, time and time again, in differing forms, created across the last century. A land that had become beloved by children everywhere, the world over.

It was a wondrous land.

No.

A Wonderland.

Saber knew this land well. It was, of course, a world born from her dreams, her desires. It was not a world she had been to, nor had she ever seen it in person. But, it was a world of her creation. A world she had written up, long ago, for that precious little girl who she loved so much. The girl she spilled her secrets too and told stories too, all on golden afternoons.

When she'd written that book, that proof her feelings, the book that declared nothing but 'I love you!', a book filled with nonsense and riddles, all to make the girl laugh and smile, she'd poured every part of herself into it. Her entire soul, crying out those feelings. And, even though, in the end, those feelings were rejected, even after she wrote another tale of the land behind the looking glass. No matter what she did or tried, that girl, the one she loved, the one and only Alice Pleasance Liddell, never felt anything for her. Eventually, even that girl, that darling, wonderful Alice, abandoned her. She'd tried desperately afterward, writing more and more, to find more little girls who she could love just as much.

But it was not to be. By the time she died, she'd driven away all those girls and she was left with nothing. Her books, remembered for their strangeness, had continued on into the annals of history. Books that captured the hearts of children everywhere. For that, she was thankful.

She was here in the present now, though, and she would win that grail for herself. With her wish, all the young girls in the world would be hers. A perfect wish.

"Welcome to the world of my creation," Upon the beginnings of her speech, she grabbed the attention of the others. "This world and everything in it, are nothing more than figments of my imagination. Therefore, in this nonsense land, born of my love for that girl who cruelly rejected me, everything is my toy. Everything, from the waistcoat, wearing rabbit, to the hatter stuck in time, to the raging rampant queen. All of them are manifestations created by me! In fact, one of those creations wants to meet you!"

That creation came forth, manifesting itself behind her, as she gazed at the Assassins. That creation, a leering grin with sharp rows of teeth, was a famous part of her tale. Sometimes, that grin was seen on the face of a cat, but for now, it was a grin without a cat. It was a smile that spoke of malevolence. It was a smile that spoke of hunger. And the Assassin Servant was its next meal. Saber smirked, for the Servant who were many, would die at the hand of perhaps the most famous part of her story, the chapter of the grinning and disappearing cat.

When the large claws descended down upon them, the Assassins fought. But, their blades would not cut through the wicked claws that easily cut through them in an instant. As the group grew thinner, some turned and fled, only to be crushed to a pulp under the weight of a gigantic paw that smeared them into the ground. No matter how hard they fought or ran, they could not win against that they could not see, and soon the only one left was the one who was a female. Unlike the rest, she did nothing to stop the beast, nothing to help her fellows. She only waited, and watched as the fanged mouth opened wide and bit her in twain. For, there was nothing she could do, but die.

The Saber watched all of this with a satisfied smirk. All she had to do for now was to play her cards right, and those girls would be hers. It might take a little time, and perhaps a story or two, but that was what she, who was once known as Charles Lutwidge Dogdson was best at. Yes, she would get those girls and finally achieve her desires.

That was the truth.


Statistics

Class : Saber

Master : Kiritsugu Emiya

Identity: Charles Lutwidge Dodgson

Titles : Lewis Carroll,  Carolus Ludovicus,  The White Knight

Sex : Female

Alignment : Neutral Evil

Origin : England

Basic Stats:

Noble Phantasms : B

Strength : C

Mana : A

Endurance : B

Agility : C

Luck : C

Class Skills:

Riding: D

Magic Resistance: C

Personal Skills:

Golden Rule (Body): D

Mental Pollution: A

Noble Phantasms:

Vorpal Sword 'Slayer of the Jabberwocky': B

The White Knight 'Idealisation of Oneself': C

Wonderland 'If I Had a World of My Own...': A

Exposition:

Riding: D

A skill that denotes a Servant's ability to ride mounts. Despite the Servant being summoned in the parameters of the Saber Class, this skill is quite low. Saber can utilize small r owing boats with ease since, in legend, it was stated the Saber enjoyed rowing boats down the river 'Thames' on certain golden afternoons. Due to the Noble Phantasm 'The White Knight' Saber can also ride and tame horses.

Magic Resistance: C

A skill that grants protection against magical effects. Since Saber was never resistant to magic in her own legend, this skill is extremely low for her class and she can only cancel any spell that has a chant below two verses.

Golden Rule (Body): D

A skill that grants a Servant a perfect and flawless body. Similar in nature to the appearance of the Heroic Spirit known as Leonardo da Vinci, Saber purposely changed herself into the form she found most ideal and beautiful in life, that of a young prepubescent girl who greatly resembles the popular human conception of the infamous 'Alice' from 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland', when she was summoned, despite her original gender as a man. This skill has no other uses and does not affect any stat that Saber would already have.

Mental Pollution: A

A skill that allows a Servant to shut out any form of mental interference due to possessing a distorted mentality. However, it is impossible for anyone not possessing the same level of the skill to come to an understanding with them. Saber has an above average probability of rendering mental interference ineffective due to her distorted view of beauty.

Saber is an individual who loves and desires that she sees as true beauty, the form of a prepubescent young girl. Saber idealizes anyone, Servant or human, that takes this form and she is considered an extreme danger towards children. In life, Saber was known to dislike the form of young boys, and this has distorted into a viewpoint of 'killing all young children that are boys'. Therefore, she will attempt to carry out this twisted desire at all times.

While Saber states that her love for the girls she admires is innocent and familial, this is a fallacious lie, making her actions extremely sinister and equally cruel. In this case, Saber must be kept away from young children of either gender at all costs, especially as she will be distracted during a fight. Anyone that appears above the age of fourteen, are considered 'uninteresting' by Saber and safe from her malicious nature.

Vorpal Sword 'Slayer of the Jabberwocky': B

Anti Unit

Target: 1

The wondrous sword that appeared in a poem of Saber's creation that has become crystallized as a Noble Phantasm despite never belonging to Saber in life. Appearing as a seemingly ordinary rapier, it is a deadly weapon that, due to the popular mentality of the 'Jabberwocky' being portrayed as a dragon, has become a weapon capable of slaying dragons. Against most Servants and humans this sword is a tool sufficient enough in the talent of severing limbs and beheading victims with an eerie 'snicker-snack!' that leaves terror in the hearts of all. Servants with a B rank in 'Magic Resistance' or higher, can cancel out the effects of the rapier leaving it only sharp enough to cut.

The White Knight 'Idealisation of Oneself': C

Anti Unit (Self)

Target: 1

A permanently active Noble Phantasm derived from Saber's distorted view of herself as the protector of all little girls as portrayed in her novel 'Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There.' This grants Saber the ability to stand on the same level of an average Servant despite her non-combative nature in life and supplies her with a decent level of fighting techniques, swordplay, horseback riding and a suit of somewhat strong armour. This Noble Phantasm cannot be turned off even through a Command Seal because it would leave Saber as vulnerable and as weak as a young girl.

Wonderland 'If I Had a World of My Own...': A

Anti Army

Target: 2-30

Due to Saber's delusional worldview, she is in possession of her very own 'Reality Marble' that takes the form of the very nonsense land she created from her own imagination in order to lure in young girls. Upon finishing her deluded chant, Saber and those around her are dragged into the world coined 'Wonderland' whereupon they are beset by the various residents that Saber birthed into the world. However, Saber can only bring forth one 'chapter' from the tales she spun, limiting the amount of damage she can cause to her victims. Also, because Saber's 'Wonderland' is disconnected from true reality, she is incapable of summoning anything from within to the outside.

Incantation:

"If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary-wise, what is wouldn't be. And what wouldn't be, it would. You see?"

Lore:

Famous author and genius mathematician born as a man in 19th century England who wrote countless nonsense tales and poems, like 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland' and 'Through the Looking Glass and What Alice Found There', that are loved around the world by children everywhere. A soulful girl who gave all that she had towards her devotion to God as a deacon. However, she was also a delusional girl who remained convinced that her love of little girls was nothing but pure and sweet and could not be condemned. She was an obliviously evil person who saw no wrong in what she was doing to those that she 'loved'. For that reason, she drove all that bonded with her, away forever.

She, who poured her heart and soul into her writings and photography, never truly achieved success until, one day, she met a young child who matched her every wish. In her attempt to write the proof of her feelings towards that which she should never have, she created her greatest work yet. A piece of art, an incredible tale, and a love letter to the girl that was named 'Alice Pleasance Liddell' who could never love her back. Even though the girl rejected her at every corner, even though the author wrote another declaration of her love towards that girl which was also rejected, and even though that girl eventually broke ties with the author who impurely desired her, she never gave up or ever changed her ways.

She continued to write and 'befriend' young girls who were entranced by her works but was cast away every time. She then died, with no regret in her heart for what she had done. A sad and lonely end, to a sad, delusional girl.